I intend to spend the next couple of blogs exploring my Grandmother's/Grandaunt's collection of ephemera. But for now I'll start with something I found within an envelope among other unrelated things; and a question for "The Antiques Roadshow Crew...."
First the question, a little story and then: the something.
The Question: "Can I be the Provenance?"
The little Story: During "The Sixties" when I was "o wain" ("bak-ina-day") my younger brother was hit by a car in front of my parent's house, and for that summer I was sent off to Long Island to my Grandmother's house at 7 Drew Street in Hempstead, Valley Stream.
can be seen the Sycamore Tree Me Da planted;
that we all climbed and referred to as "The Family Tree".
Well, after I proudly showed off my newly bulging bankroll to Grandma; and she told me just what that 3rd Rail was all about: I was grounded. I was only allowed to stay on the property and not to go to the Five and Dime unaccompanied.
So I spent the first few hour's of the first day, in the backyard, in the Sycamore we called "The Family Tree"; carving my initials as far up the tree as I could get next to my older brother's initials.
Then I went down into the basement and rummaged around for awhile. I found some old Signet Novels and I read for the length of a bored pre-teens concentration span. I worked my way through all the "Junk" (Boy do I wish I had one tenth of that stuff now!) from the back of the house to the front.
Along the front wall there was a stack of some old picture frames and a mirror. I pulled the old picture frames towards me and held them up so I could look at the mirror. THEY FELL FORWARD at me and I just barely stopped them from knocking me down underneath them.
When the mirror came away from the wall, A TRAP DOOR WAS REVEALED!
So I carefully moved the picture frames and the mirror over to the side and jiggled at the door. As it pulled away cobwebs stretched like bubblegum in the sun until they gently snapped and fell to the floor in a swirl of 30 year old sift.
I crawled into my mysterious Pirate Cave on my hands and knees to find: empty wooden Barrels, Silt covered bottles and earthenware demijohns encased in a wickerwork covering.
Later that night I asked Gram: "What's all that stuff down in the cellar under the front porch?"
"Oh," She said in her high pitched "Tee-hee" -Grandma -shaped -voice: "...that's where your Grandfather used to make Wine during the 20s...."
Typed on Grandma's old typewriter?
The Fondement as they say?
Yeah, so this recipe makes 20 GALLONS OF WINE!
Do you think my Grandfather was operating a "Shebeen in
His Father (or Grandfather) owned a Saloon in NYC (I'm not sure yet; perhaps both even.)
(And may or may not be the right place)
This scan was taken from "The Time Life Civil War Series"
devoted to the "War on the Homefront."
I found it while looking for other things
pertaining to the Gilmour brother's....
My son and I plan to cut down the portions to a manageable amount and give it a try sometime this year.
Perhaps it "Will make quite a nice drink, but not as good as real wine."
And we' ll open up our own Shebeen and call it "Provenance".
Slainte! and "Guid forder!"